


Spontaneous Combustion

by Stiney



Series: Fu King 'Verse [1]
Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Major Character Injury, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stiney/pseuds/Stiney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year before the Iraq plate fiasco. Where our boys learn it's so much more fun to run off all that excess Jazz after missions with each other.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Spontaneous Combustion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purrslink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purrslink/gifts).



When the door slammed open in Medical, Staff Sergeant Davis looked up quickly, ready for whatever was coming through the door. Seeing Lt. Peck stumbling through the door laughing she started smiling. Whenever Face was in here, without something being seriously wrong, someone was going to get felt up in a supply closet somewhere.

Then she noticed the other man he was leaning against, who was laughing just as hard, Captain Murdock. He made her uncomfortable. Not in a head in a freezer sorta way but just a strange, off-kilter way. Plus, if the LT was with any of his teammates there would be no nooky in any closet.

She sighed, resigning herself to that fact and turned back around to her paperwork, waiting for the men to eventually hit her desk to check in. She answered the ringing phone and didn’t even notice when their loud laughter stopped.

++++++

Hannibal had ordered them over after they got back safely from Al Qahirah. Mainly because Murdock had spent a good amount of danger and bullet-flying time, hanging out the window of the jeep, returning insurgent fire, yelling and howling at the top of his lungs.

They were both jazzed up as they stumbled through the door, high on adrenaline and feeding off of each other’s manic energy, laughing their asses off. Face stopped laughing though, the minute Murdock dragged him into the supply closet, locking the door behind them.

“Whatcha doing, bud?” Face asked even though he knew the look in Murdock’s eyes, he’d had it plenty of times pulling nurses in here himself after extreme close calls.

Murdock didn’t answer as he pushed Face against the wall, hands shaky and mouth hot and needy against his.

To say Face was shocked would be an understatement, but not because Murdock was a guy. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t slept with a guy before and well, he sure as hell knew Murdock had after he caught the Captain in another closet a few months ago with a blond Sergeant bent over a counter. What the hell was that kid’s name? Bancroft or something. All he knew was the young Sergeant flew out of the cramped space nearly knocking Face to his ass as Murdock just pulled up his pants and drawled, _“You have the worst fucking timing, Faceman.”_ before moving passed him.

Later that night Murdock slid up next to him and begged in a whisper for him not to say anything to Hannibal. Watching the absolute panic in his friend’s eyes he told Murdock he had nothing to worry about and mentioned his own trysts to ease the pilot’s anxiety.

No, Face was shocked because it was just kind of outta left field. Where in the hell had it come from? It wasn’t bad. Not in the least. The questions rattling around in his head stopped when Murdock’s hand slid between them and squeezed just strong enough to have his brain shutting down as all blood went south.

The pilot pulled away and looked up at him. The predatory glare was replaced by one of questioning, pleading and honest damned fear.

Face smiled reassuredly before he placed his hands on either side of Murdock’s head and pulled the pilot to him hard, returning the kiss with enough fervor to stop any questions that might come up about his willingness.

As Face slid his tongue into Murdock’s mouth, buttons and zippers were being taken care of; the kiss was broken as he was being pushed down onto all fours on the floor. He watched Murdock dig around the shelves before snatching blue and white packets out of a box, while grinning ear to ear.

“You ok?” Murdock asked looking down at his friend, whose face was flushed, lips swollen from their rough kissing.

“Yes, dammit. Less talking, more whatever you’re gonna do with whatever that is.” Face panted, pointing at the packets in Murdock’s hands.

Face's cock was so hard it ached and he was so keyed up he thought he’d explode into a million pieces when Murdock touched his back gently.

“It’s Surgilube.” Murdock answered, the question he wasn’t asking hanging in the air.

“If you honestly think there’s any doubt in my mind that I want you to use said Surgilube to fuck me, then let me make it clear, quit wasting time and fuck me, flyboy.” Face growled over his shoulder.

The bluntness of the comment jolted Murdock into action as he ripped the packet open with his teeth and rubbed the solution on himself before sliding a finger into Face.

“Fuck, that’s cold.” He hissed as Murdock laughed adding another finger and crooking just enough to have Face pressing hard against him.

“Oh, yes, again.” Face pleaded, hands scrabbling for purchase on the floor.

“I will. Don’t worry about that.” Murdock said, placing his hands to Face’s hips as he slowly pushed in, stopping until Face was comfortable then moving again until he was completely sheathed in the other man.

“Fuck, you are so tight.” Murdock groaned, moving his hips as Face pushed back to meet his thrusts.

It was hot as hell in the closet and they were both sweating and gasping as their rhythm sped up. Face stroked himself, head burrowed into his arms trying to cover the scream that ripped from him as he came into his hand and on the floor.

Murdock continued pounding into him, his thrusts erratic as he leaned over biting into Face’s shoulder to muffle his noises before the pilot was pulling out and coming against his back.

Face laughed as Murdock leaned heavily against him, his breathing fast and raspy against his ear. Christ, they were in so much trouble. The fucking closet reeked of sex, not to mention the absolute mess they’d made. They’d have to clean themselves up before reporting to Hannibal.

And that’s when Face felt the warm stickiness running down his arm. He looked down and saw blood on the floor.

“Murdock!” He shouted, turning to face the pilot who was sitting there on his knees with blood seeping out of the shoulder of his jacket.

“Hmm?” Murdock's eyes cleared from their post-coital haze as he saw the look of panic on his friend’s face. He glanced at his shoulder and shrugged. “Eh, 'Tis but a scratch.”

“Murdock, shut the fuck up and get out to the check-in desk while I deal with all of this!” Face tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he pointed in every direction of the closet.

Thankfully his shirt had been hiked up enough that a swipe with paper towels and he was good to go after cleaning up the floor. He slipped out of the closet and walked over to check-in.

“Where’s Captain Murdock?” Face asked the nurse behind the desk.

“He’s over there with a doctor.” She gave him a look that he chose to ignore as he turned and walked towards the noise of Murdock arguing with the doctor.

“What’s up, doc?” Face said putting on his best conning, get whatever the fuck he wanted smile.

“Captain Murdock seems to think that because he was lucky enough that the bullet just grazed him that he shouldn’t stay here for longer than the 20 minutes it’s taken me to stitch him up. It wasn’t serious but how long has it been since he was shot? Look at all this blood.” The doctor flipped the sleeve of Murdock’s jacket inside out, exposing in Face’s expert opinion, a shit ton of blood.

Face narrowed his eyes and looked at Murdock, who sat on the exam table in a blood soaked undershirt, then asked, "How long's it been since you knew you were shot, Captain?"

“Hmm, about an hour ago, I told you it wasn’t a big deal. Plus, look, me and Bosco will have matching scars now.” Murdock laughed, pointing at the stitches above his tattoo and Face rolled his eyes before looking at the doctor.

“I know you want him to stay but we’re expected back by Colonel Smith.”

At Hannibal’s name the doctor sighed before mumbling something under his breath about, ‘Understanding their bullshit now’. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up as he looked at Murdock, “You’re free to go, Captain.”

“Come on, bud. Let’s get out of here.” Face said picking up Murdock’s jacket and completely ruined Hawaiian shirt.

Getting into the jeep he looked at Murdock. “What the hell, man? Seriously, a fucking hour?”   

“Shhhh, Faceman, stop yelling. I’m trying to sleep.” Murdock said as he awkwardly leaned his head and left arm against the dash, trying not to jostle his right.

“Hannibal’s going to be pissed.” Face said starting the vehicle.

“How ‘bout we just tell the Colonel I’m taken care of. Don’t really want to start throwing time lines and stuff at him. Ya’ know with missing minutes and all that.” Murdock said lifting his head and looking at Face.

“Oh…oh yeah.” He’d been so upset he’d forgotten that he was the reason it’d taken Murdock that long to get stitched up.

Murdock burst out laughing. “Christ, Face you’re so red I can see you blush in the damn dark.”

“Shut up, Murdock.” He tossed back feebly.

Every time he’d come back from a mission, every near miss he’d had, he’d always slid into bed/car/closet with the first willing woman. Get rid of that extra energy that threatened to make him spontaneously combust, but this was different. _Better._ Murdock knew exactly what was going on because he had that same pent up energy. Hannibal’s “Jazz”, as it was. It felt good to run it off with someone you didn’t have to awkwardly get rid of the next morning, or hell, in the next couple hours.

Face pulled up to the tent where Hannibal and B.A. were outside waiting for them and looked at Murdock, who flashed him that lopsided grin before climbing out of the jeep.

“Bosco! We’re gonna have matching gunshot scars! It’s better than a Friends Forever necklace.”

“Everything ok, kid?” Hannibal asked, lighting a cigar.

Face glanced over at Murdock who was laughing while talking about friendship necklaces and keeping himself just out of B.A.'s irritated reach while bothering the big guy.

He smiled, “Yeah, boss. Everything’s good.”


End file.
